


Out of the Closet

by ProspertheXVIII



Category: The Adventures of Priscilla Queen of the Desert (1994)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 04:14:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9961694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProspertheXVIII/pseuds/ProspertheXVIII
Summary: Trapped in a locked cleaner's cupboard in the casino after a tipsy rendezvous, it occurs to Mitzi and Felicia that greater forces may be at play in their relationship. Namely a precocious eight-year old with a penchant for Lego and ABBA.





	

"How very ironic."  
"Oh, would you shut your face?" Tick grumped, pacing to and fro, bumping occasionally into a wall in the darkness. "I'd slap it off you if I could bloody see it."   
"Look, all I'm saying is isn't this whole situation kinda hilarious? I mean, c'mon - two gay men trapped in a closet. I haven't spent so much time stuck in one of these fuckers since my teenage years."   
"Ha-fucking-ha; wasn't funny the first time you said it, and it still isn't funny seventeen times later," he shot a scowl in what he assumed was Adam's vague direction, folding his arms against his chest. "Are you not freaking out even a little bit?"

"Not at all," that tone of voice was the one that always came along with that hideous, obnoxious smirk, and it made Tick's stomach turn; the revulsion confusingly accompanied by most of the heat in his body surging to between his legs. "It was worth it, Mitz, let's be honest."   
"Questionable," he muttered, leaning against a wall with a furrowed brow, kicking his heels off and listening to the 'thud' as they hit the adjacent wall - or maybe the door. He couldn't be 100% sure. He let himself slide down the wall until he was sitting spread-eagled on the floor; arms still crossed.  
"Aw, don't be mean," he felt the muscled heat-pack of Adam's torso lean against his own; the other man draping an arm around his shoulders - pointed chin resting on his shoulder. "You liked it really. And even if you didn't, it's something off my bucket list at least - French kiss a bloke dressed as Cher in a broom cupboard."

"I think you'll find you did way more than that."

"I never said I'd never tried _that_ bit."   
"I'd have thought that kissing generally a prerequisite to putting someone's dick in your mouth, Felicia."

"Says who?"   
"You little whore..."

"Hey, you enjoyed it, you rotten old queer!"

"That's not important," he snorted. "Jesus...what the fuck are we gonna _do_?..." Everything about their somewhat tipsy cupboard-based hookup had been absolutely fine. Sure, Tick couldn't quite remember how they'd got there, but he knew it had happened. It had been fine -  _good_ , even. Until, of course, the door had swung shut. So now they were locked in; no light, and more importantly, no feasible way out.  
"We're meant to be on stage in...shit, I don't know...At some point within the next twenty minutes, I'm guessing. Anyway, Bernadette's gonna notice we're gone at some point, and she'll come looking."

"She's not telepathic, Adam."

"Yes, but assuming that she _did_ stumble across us. There can only be so many dark little spaces for doing dark deeds in the one place, surely?" Tick scoffed at this comment, rolling his eyes. 

"And what the fuck is she gonna do about a locked door, huh?"   
"Find Marion and get her to deal with it," he drew his words out as though he was talking to a child, much to Tick's chagrin. "It's gonna be _fine_ , Tick."   
"I know...I just- look, I don't want to bloody be here, okay? Let me panic in peace for god's sake."

 

They sat in an uncomfortable, stilted silence for an impossible-to-determine amount of time, a few awkward inches between them so as to reaffirm that they weren't talking. Far from pleased about it, Tick eventually made the decision to bridge the gap in conversation, recalling another that he had had earlier that day with someone else; the possible implications of what they had been doing playing on his mind - but the ideas of what it could possibly amount to growing more grandiose and attractive all the same. "Y'know," Tick shuffled closer to him. "Benji asked me something today."

"What would that be?"

"He said 'Are you gonna have a boyfriend when we get back to Sydney?'"   
"What did you say?" 

"I said I don't think so - I'm too old."

"And what did he have to say to that?"

"He said that Bernadette has Bob, and she's way older than I am." 

He heard Adam give a laugh at this. "He'll be lucky if she hasn't killed him by the time we're back home, the way he's going. Still, think about it; they're too bloody similar - wait until he hits his teens. Assuming she's still around, they'll verbally tear us to fucking shreds."

"How fucking old do you think she is?"

"Not a clue - she refuses to tell me. It was thirty-five last time I checked, and frankly I find that unbelievable."  
"Fair enough. I lost track years ago - I figured there was no getting the truth out of her after I got three different answers in the same month. At this point, I'm not convinced that even she knows."

"Anyway, where were you going with that?" Adam steered the conversation away from Ms Bassinger's age, clearly bored of talking about her.

"I dunno...I was just telling you."   
"Well," Adam's tone had taken up a weird lilt; Tick heard the rustling of his skirts as he changed seated position. "He asked me the same thing the other day...Okay, not quite. But he asked if I was single. Then about you."

Tick froze for a moment, before smirking; a throaty chuckle playing in his voice. "I think my son is trying to set us up." 

"Well, it worked, didn't it? Here we are, me and you...Two weeks on a bus without so much as a kiss - fine for you, Antony Belrose of the Perennially Empty Dance Card, but not so much me. Bernadette has it off with the first straight bloke who so much as looks her way...Was bound to happen at some point, wasn't it?"   
Tick looked down somewhat, slightly hurt at Adam's thought process behind their hookup. Little as he was always wanted to admit it, he...well, he'd liked him, hadn't he? "...So you're saying this wouldn't have happened were it not for this trip? That this was...Fuck, I dunno - just clearing a blockage or something?"   
"Well...No, not really," he admitted. "The hideous pink bus is just what I'd call a catalyst...I..." he tailed off, almost a touch awkward. "I like you, Mitz. Like...a lot. Basically since I met you, and I-"

"Say no more," Tick laid a hand on his shoulder. "Would it be cliche to say that, even if you are a foul-mouthed, immature, idiotic little fag with no morals and no common sense, the feeling may be mutual?"   
"Probably," he smirked, leaning over to place a blind kiss on what he had assumed was Mitzi's cheek - doing reasonably well, circumstances considered. He then stood up, pulling Tick to his feet as he did so, causing him to stumble somewhat on his stockinged feet. "Now come on - I'm getting out of here."

Tick dusted himself off, readjusting his boobs, before stopping and processing how daft Adam's statement had been. "And how do you propose that you go about that?" 

"Well, I have no idea, but I'm not about to sit in here and rot when Mitzi Del Bra just professed her undying love to me."   
"It's not 'undying love', I-"  
"Call it quits while you're ahead, dolls. Can I tell Benji?"

"No."   
"Why?"   
"Who says you're my boyfriend now?"

"Well, based on a technicality, you did."

" _How_?"   
"Oh, stop kidding yourself on, Tick," he placed a hand on his shoulder. "I like you; you like me - what the hell's stopping us?"  
"You're right," he smiled weakly; pulling Felicia in closer to him.

The escape plan was pretty quickly abandoned. After all, it is pretty difficult to concentrate on other things when you have your face in someone else's arse. 

  


* * *

  


"Don't tell me; I don't even want to know." This incident had to be the first recorded case of Bonnie Tyler walking in on Cher and Cyndi Lauper hooking up in a cleaner's cupboard. The light had flooded in as Marion and Bernadette stood in the doorway to find the other two entwined on the floor; costumes askew and partly discarded to the four corners of the 'room', and makeup smeared beyond recognition. Marion snorted; if at Bernadette's mock-revolted reaction, or the situation that lay sprawled in front of them, he wasn't sure.   
"Cover your eyes, Benj - this is not something I need you to bear witness to," Marion jibed, nodding to the kid who stood behind her; Tick internally cursed himself as he heard his son's giggles. "Well well well, isn't this one for the family album?" She spoke through her laughs, walking in and helping a disgruntled Tick to his feet, before doing the same for Adam. Bernadette waved to the two of them with a slight smile growing on her face as they made eye contact; to which Adam responded by flipping her off, Tick groaning with his scarlet face in his hands. Bernadette drew a crumpled five-dollar bill from her clutch purse, quietly slipping it to a still-chuckling Benjamin with a coy smile on her lips.

"Okay, you were right." 


End file.
